


A Mystery! Solved

by molybdomantic



Category: Edward Gorey's PBS Mystery Intro, GOREY Edward - Works
Genre: Epistolary, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molybdomantic/pseuds/molybdomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mysterious goings-on at Wilberforce Hall are perturbing its occupants...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mystery! Solved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inmyriadbits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyriadbits/gifts).



_Received 29th September, 19XX at Farringdon House. A letter, bearing the impression of a dog's teeth and smelling faintly of sausage._

Wilberforce Hall  
September 27th

My dearest Philomena,

I must begin by apologising that I have not had the chance to write to you recently. Gerald and I only returned from the end of the summer season at Knossos a few weeks ago and we have been so very occupied in cataloguing the finds and overseeing the storage of the equipment until next year. My main purpose in writing is to recount some of the unusual events that have befallen our household since our return.

But first I must explain the unorthodox method by which you received this missive. I have been confounded by inexplicable turns of fate so often of late that I am quite at a loss to know who I can trust with even the simplest of tasks. I must fall back on my most faithful of companions - my devoted hound Emil. Thus if this letter appears slightly gnawed or bespittled, please excuse my dutiful messenger.

In the past weeks there have been many strange occurrences at Wilberforce Hall and I grow to suspect some dastardly plot to rob me of my sanity. The only alternative explanation - that these events do not have an explanation which falls within the realm of human comprehension - is too horrid to contemplate.

It all began on the Thursday after our return to the Hall, when Gerald and the Thursday set were engaged in their usual afternoon pastime of croquet. Ah, croquet, most noble and vicious of games! Truly there is no finer way to occupy oneself on an unexpectedly balmy Thursday in September. Gerald was particularly glad of the opportunity for a game so late in the season, when it was almost time to pack away the hoops and mallets for another year. Light showers failed to dampen the players' spirits, and play proceeded with much plotting and hilarity until at the third hoop, Marmaduke's ball was quite obliterated by a chunk of falling masonry! Fortunately, being a strong and adept croquet player, he had hit the ball clean across the court in search of a roquet and thus was in no personal danger. All were exceedingly shaken and were compelled to withdraw to the house to calm their nerves.

The very same day we summoned Mr Braithwaite, a structural engineer of some reknown, and not two days later he visited Wilberforce Hall to pass judgement on the state of the building. After a thorough investigation he announced to our great consternation that foul play was afoot! The battlements of the hall had been deliberately weakened to persuade the masonry to fall, and the wall betrayed incontravertable indications that the some ne'er-do-well had intended us harm! Of course we immediately sent for the police and not half an hour later we were in the care of Inspector Rackham of the local constabulary, who has been so helpful to us in matters of poaching and trespass in the past. Inspector Rackham was so concerned for our safety (and, I think, so intrigued by the case) that he offered to stay and conduct a full enquiry into the matter. We were delighted to accept his gracious offer and the extra measure of protection it brings us.

But the funniest thing is, since Inspector Rackham attached himself to our household, I have begun to see detectives everywhere! At first I thought that Inspector Rackham was merely unusually sprightly and fleet of foot, with a nose for the most interesting parts of the house and an uncanny knack of anticipating my presence. But eventually I found that everywhere I went, I spied a disinctive moustache and derby just disappearing round the corner. Before long I was forced to conclude that Inspector Rackham could not possibly be in so many places at once. And lately I have been catching glimpses of moe than one derby, sometimes as many as three at once, in a line, resembling nothing as much as a line of sinister ducklings! I find that I cannot even take my usual afternoon memorial drink by Mama's grave, and contemplate the happy times we spent together admiring the pyramids, without being dogged by interlopers.

Last Tuesday, being able to stand the intrusion no longer, I confronted Inspector Rackham and flat-out asked him whether he had brought a team of colleagues onto the estate. He swore that he had not. So where then can these men have come from? Are they our protectors or our enemies? Are we being spied upon by adversaries who would wish to topple masonry onto all our heads? I do not know where they come from, or where they hide, or into which corners they can slide their prying fingers. And thus I cannot trust the conventional method of carriage to carry my letter to you undisturbed, and trust you will forgive the unconventionality of my missive.

I hope Emil finds you and all your family in good health and spirits. He will wait until you have a reply for me; if you find you require some time to compose your response, simply feed him cheap meat or table scraps until you are ready to respond.

Yours in perplexity,  
your dear sister,  
Ruth

* * *

_Received 7th October, 19XX at Farringdon House. A letter, slightly warped by canine saliva._

Wilberforce Hall  
October 4th

My dearest Philomena,

My greatest thanks for your sweet and reassuring letter, which did much to calm my mind and nerves. In moments of consternation I reasssure myself with your suggestion that the entire affair can be attributed to a lively imagination and some unfortunate brick-laying.

I must also thank you on behalf of Emil, who so greatly enjoyed your kind hospitalty and returned to me contented and well-fed.

However, I must apprise you of the latest incidents to befall our unhappy household. It pains me to report that since my last letter we have had another unpleasant surprise!

Last Friday we were occupied in one of our usual evening soirees, and despite the unusual goings-on which have afflicted our household of late, Gerald and I found ourselves relaxing happily in the company of the Friday evening set. We enjoyed a superlative dinner cooked by our talented housekeeper Mrs Bramwell, who had truly excelled herself. A delightful prawn cocktail, followed by salmon en croute. As dessert was served (a luscious chocolate mousse), conversation turned to our profusion of vases and urns and I was drawn out into a discussion of their provenance. Although our expeditions to Delphi and Knossos supplied many of the pots that grace our rooms, I must allow that of late I have been finding increasing numbers of inexplicably anachronistic specimens. For instance, a classic calyx krater, but decorated mystifyingly in Meiping style. And what I would swear is a Mayan vessel, though I am no expert in the area, ringed around with classic Attic black figures. I expressed my concerns on their provenance and solicited my guests' opinions - maybe one of them knew of a practical joker? Arthur quipped that we should think of the situation as "pottery in motion" and, sorely wounded, we all resolved to ignore him for the rest of the evening.

After dinner, we ladies retired to the drawing room and after a little while Phillip came to enquire whether we had seen Gerald, who had apparently promised to look out an interesting tome on the subject of Athenian satyr plays but had not returned to the gentlemen's gathering. I accompanied him to the library where - horror of horrors! - we found Gerald unconscious on the floor. The butler was summoned and brought smelling salts, and when we had managed to rouse Gerald he complained of a stunning headache and could not recall the details of his predicament. However he did remember catching sight of a caped figure sneaking out of the library window.

No evidence could be found as to the identity of the miscreant by Inspector Rackahm or anyone else, save for another of the counterfeit vases lurking in the corner of the patio (an innocuous-looking pithos, if one can imagine such a thing, save that on closer inspection its main decorative feature was a ring of steam locomotives). If only the mysterious detectives could be relied upon to attend such a scene rather than always disappearing round the corner or following in one's footsteps. We might have some clue as to how this horrible event occurred. Who can have perpetrated this terrible act? I am quite distraught. (Not to be outdone, Myrtle swooned quite away, and when this went unnoticed in the general consternation surrounding Gerald's misfortune, she found herself a wall to faint on top of, in an attempt to make herself more noticeable. Really she can be so attention-seeking, and at such an inconvenient time!)

Curiously this is not the first oddly-placed urn we have happened upon since my last missive. We have been finding an unusual number of mislaid vases around the house. I had thought nothing of it - a forgetful maid, maybe, or my dear Gerald searching for mislaid cufflinks again - but they are turning up in the most unlikely places and of late I have come across no few vases perched in high places in a most precarious fashion, though I did not until recently stop to think whether they were the mysterious hoax vases. I cannot help but wonder whether our unknown malefactors are seeking another opportunity to cause us injury or worse.

I truly hope that we unravel all our mysteries soon and that my next letter is more mundane. Perhaps I will find space to write about the gardens or to describe our latest cataloguing efforts!

Concernedly yours,  
your dear sister,  
Ruth

* * *

_Received 14th October, a.m., 19XX at Farringdon House. A letter, almost bitten through._

My dearest Philomena,

A terrible event has befallen us! Oh please, please come. I shall send more details when I can bear to put them to paper.

Ruth

* * *

_Received 14th October, p.m., 19XX at Farringdon House. A letter, bearing a single muddy paw-print._

My dearest Philomena,

Now that Emil has returned I find that I have regained a little of my composure, and may commit the facts to paper. Such terrible events have befallen our unfortunate household and I cannot see any end to our tribulations.

Only yesterday evening we were holding one of our usual gatherings, and the party was in full swing, with the Saturday evening set enjoying our usual staples of cocktails and dancing. Despite the unusual profusion of vases and urns, which are becoming quite numerous now, we managed to find plenty of room for dancing and much fun was had all round. Even in the shadow of a precariously-balanced amphora the mood was delightful and we quite forgot all our cares. 

Not an hour had gone by, however, when there was a terrible shriek from the gardens. Maud stepped out through the ballroom doors to admire the moon and spied a handsome pair of shoes sliding into the duck pond. Moments later Gerald and Frank rallied around to pull the unfortunate out. It was Ralph, and he was quite, quite dead. Fortunately poor Ralph kept his shoes well polished and they caught the moonlight, or the crime might have gone undiscovered until morning!

There were no witnesses, other than poor Maud at the very end, and no signs of a scuffle. Inspector Rackham insisted on scouring the scene and interviewing us all at great length. 

We found afterwards that the vases had also started appearing outside in the grounds, although their precise number proved hard to assess.  
Certainly one was perched near where poor Ralph met his end (could he merely have tripped? it seems so unlikely) and Inpector Rackham swears that whenever he turned round another had appeared. He said it was the funniest thing, but that he felt they were watching him raptly. 

Myrtle, who rightly felt that the situation was more grave than last time, escalated by going up to the roof to swoon this time, feeling that a mere wall would not properly reflect the degree of her distress.

Once again I entrust this letter only to my faithful Emil, who I know has only my best interests at heart. I was greatly moved by your suggestion that you might visit, and implore you to decide whether you can, as this would be a great comfort to me. Your presence lightens my heart; our house, troubled though it is, is always ready to receive you. I am intrigued by your theories about our problems and feel that a fresh perspective could only help. Please tell me you will visit and put me out of my misery! I am quite beside myself with worry.

Fearing the worst,  
your dear sister,  
Ruth

* * *

_Received 1st November, 19XX at Farringdon House. A letter, with a scattering of dark dog hair in the folds._

My dearest Philomena,

I have once again entrusted this letter to my dear Emil, who has become quite accustomed to the walk and would miss it were I to revert to the usual postal service. How we do humour our animal companions!

I cannot find the words to tell you how much I welcomed your visit and what a difference it made to our bedevilled household. At last we can relax happily in the knowledge that our trials are over, and we will be haunted by no more mysterious events.

I cannot fathom how we coped without your assistance and must praise again your masterful untangling of our problems. Before you arrived, we were in disarray and our nerves were on edge. We had no explanation for the strange and harrowing events that were enveloping our household.

Who would ever have supposed that the vases themselves were the engineers of our sorrows? Never in my life have I heard of such a thing happening, neither in the many learned journals to which I subscribe, nor even in the wildest of ghost stories. Since your visit I have scoured the library shelves for a work which could throw light on this wonder, but beyond passing references to vague legends I have found very little. The only information of substance I have found is from Cartwright's 1865 memoirs, and runs thus:

_"...and there is a legend among these people that when a vampire bites a potter, the result is an unholy shape-changer who can assume the guise of a humble urn or vase and thus escape undetected during the day. They further claim that the vampire-potter can create servants by throwing pots with blood for slip. Such arrant nonsense I have never before heard in my whole life..."_

I wonder has your own well-stocked library, with its occult leanings, anything too add on the subject?

I shall never forget if I live to be a hundred the marvellous divinations shown to us by your magical fan, or the endless dioramas of urn-related havoc and mayhem it revealed. To think that we harboured such an ancient and malevolent being within our walls, which might have claimed our lives one after another! Gerald and I shall think twice about which finds come home with us in future. If only we knew its provenance, and how long it has laid dormant within our walls...

Thank you once again for your invaluable help. I cannot think of another who could have swept to the heart of the problem with such skill and perspicacity! I hope that in years to come we shall all be able to look back on this episode with curiosity and wonder. Perhaps it is even worthy of a ghost story of the type we used to love so much as girls! 

Deeply in your debt,  
your loving sister,  
Ruth

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to beta readers denisbloodnok and stephdairy.


End file.
